Tent Hoppers
by Terras Loveday
Summary: Did anyone ever stop to ask what would realistically happen in the event that 100 of your most delinquent teenagers were sent to a planet ravaged by an apocalyptic event with no supervision, no rules, and no sense of consequence? Let's find out. Follow the 100 as they navigate through an extended AU of the events of Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm aware that within the bounds of how the official 100 show timeline sets itself up, this fanfiction in semantically impossible. But, let's assume we suspended season 1 of the 100 to take place over an undecided amount of time for the purposes of my work. There are some elements I wanted to play around with more that didn't get as much development as I'd like them to have in the series. So if you would indulge me this fantasy, please and thank you.

* * *

Clarke

It had been a long day. Two shoulders had been reset, 17 stitches sewn, and just about every other single little worry from splinters to benign moles had had me on my feet examining, diagnosing, treating, and reassuring people all day. Nearly as exhausting was the effort it took me not to break with professionalism and roll my eyes every time someone came to me about a hangnail. The moment that I stopped taking every single little issue these people have seriously would be the moment they stop coming to me about their medical problems. Then I'd have an even larger problem to deal with beyond class divisional resentment leftover from our time on the Ark.

So I made my way to my tent after dinner, fully intent on staying there for the rest of the evening and into the early morning when inevitably everything would have to start all over again. A never-ending monotonous slew of long days building walls to keep grounders at bay, hunting and scavenging for food, and the odd grave dug for a kid who'd been naturally selected as a learning experience for the rest of us. It was arduous, building a new life down here from scratch. Sometimes there would be a setback that discouraged the morale of the camp, but with what we had accomplished thus far there was immense pride felt all around that made waking up in the morning every day worth it down here it seemed.

I collapsed onto my makeshift bed, the reality of which was… pitiful. Nothing but a small threadbare blanket layered over the earthen ground and a makeshift pillow that was actually just layered clumps of moss I'd transplanted from elsewhere.

'Beggars can't be choosers,' I thought solemnly.

In all truth, I was lucky for even the meager privacy of the tent. There hadn't been much spare canvas left over from the dropship to go around, some people made do without tents by means of bunking with their friends from when they were in lockup. I had been confined to solitary during my stint in the skybox and then there was the issue of the nature of my status on the ark meant that I didn't have many friends in camp, so no bunking for me.

A small number of other camp members made do with the shortage by means of tent hopping. And by tent hopping, I don't mean it in the platonic sense. Tent hopping, I imagined, certainly offered its own perks — a connection, however fleeting that might be, and a warm body to cuddle up to for the night, likely a top selling point given there weren't enough blankets to go around. Then there were the pleasure aspects of tent hopping, the sexually cathartic nature of once institutionalized hormonal teenagers was hardly a surprise when there were 100 confined to the same square mileage with not a proper authority figure in sight to stop the couplings. Or anything else for that matter.

I lay there in my bed waiting for sleep to take hold, wondering how long it would take for the delicate balance of the 100 camp to tip in a direction that was dangerous. Tensions were still high in the camp between the unruly members still honoring Bellamys 'Whatever the hell we want' philosophy and those trying to build our society, little surprise given every single one of the 100 sent down were criminals to some degree, justified or not.

I didn't trust many members of our camp, I didn't know what they were capable of. Many of them returned my glances to them with unmasked glares and my advice with pointed silence. It felt as if I were isolated on a planet of hostiles, choosing only to live with the ones on this side of a wall because the ones on the other side scared me more.

It's a wonder how I managed to drift into an uneasy sleep at all given the situation. However, soon after I found myself bolting awake, my knife readied as my tent flap was pushed aside to allow another person entrance.

"Princess." Came Bellamy's voice in the darkness. There was no courtesy in the volume of his tone, but there was an air of strain nearly tangible in the air as he said that single word

Sitting up I reached for the flashlight hanging from the roof of my tent which served as my only illumination and turned it on. Suddenly the interior of the tent wasn't a collection of shadows, the grey of my blanket contrasted against the orange of my tent and the yellow of the dead grass on the ground "What's wrong?"

"Follow me." his voice was grim. I pulled myself to my feet and followed his shaded figure through the tent flap to the open moonlit campground.

There were still a few people by the fires at this point, aimlessly socializing, dozing off, drinking moonshine or some combination of the three. The flames gradually flickered dimmer, barely lighting the way and Bellamy in front of me.

We padded across camp towards Bellamy's tent. His accommodations were a bit larger than the rest, I'd never seen inside them before but that was about to change as we neared the entrance to the tent's flap. He held it open for me and I walked in ahead to find a small hanging flashlight barely illuminating a mess of tangled blankets and the girl who sat upon them, knees brought to her chest, looking every bit nervous.

Her brunette hair, slim figure, angular features, and sharp eyebrows gave me a sneaking suspicion that she was might perhaps be one of Bellamy's many rotating bedfellows.

Her nervousness subsided into a more hostile look as her gaze fell to me, when Bellamy entered in behind me she averted it from me to him and demanded, "Bellamy what is she doing here? I'm not down to for a party."

'Defiantly one of his tent hoppers,' I thought wearily.

What I said was more matter of fact, "That isn't what you needed me for is?" And cast him a withering look, my meaning clear

He didn't even have the decency to bother faking embarrassment, "Course not, Princess. Kat, Clarke is here for her training as a doc, and that's all."

"Oh," the girl, Kat responded meekly. She was one of the older girls by the looks of it, but there in the blankets she with her arms wrapped around herself she looked like a lost 5-year-old.

Despite the initial interaction, I switched myself 0n to the part of the doting physician, kneeling down in front of her so that she didn't feel like I was some daunting figure.

I softened my voice and asked gently, "What seems to be the concern?"

"I'm late."

The rest of what followed was merely a tacked on clarification of the obvious. An unnecessarily formality to ensure there was no miscommunication. I knew exactly what was alluded to at those two words alone. "I think I might be pregnant," She continued on quickly, "I've been having weird stomach issues for a few days now and thought it might have been just something I ate but I've been moody too. But that I assumed was because I was about to start my cycle and then when that didn't happen I just thought I was late because reasons, then I threw up and-"

"Okay, Kat, breath. Inhale four counts, then exhale four counts. Breath along with me?" She nodded and followed my lead. When I was confident she'd calmed down I resumed my inquiries, "Answer as best as you can: Can you estimate how many weeks ago the conception would have been?"

"Three, I think."

"Did you receive the IUD on the Ark?"

"No, I was too young for it before I was locked up, then when I was old enough they thought it would be a waste on someone they would eventually float."

"Does the father know?"

At this, she paused, "I'm not…actually 100% sure if Bellamy is the father or not." She looked at Bellamy who remained stoic," But I am 100% sure that 50% of the possible fathers knows at this point." She said sheepishly

"Okay, it's up to you if you want to let him know or not. But I will say this, there's no possible way that I can give you a pregnancy test in order to be sure of whether you're pregnant or not. Not that I know of at least… I will discretely inquire about alternative possible methods but I can't guarantee anything."

"I understand." She looking near tears.

"Kat," I said more soothing this time, "I will be with you through every stage of this process no matter what happens." This next part I myself didn't necessarily believe, but if Kat did and it made her feel less stressed about the situation at hand, then I was all for it, "You are not alone in this situation, there is an entire camp of damn near 100 kids out there chomping to make even more history happen. They'll be psyched when they find out they'll be the first surrogate aunts and uncles to a child on the ground in 97 years. Remember that." I wasn't too certain of my own word, regardless, I forced the confidence.

That seemed to help her cope a little bit, her brow furrowed as she mulled that information over in her mind.

There wasn't much left that I could do at the moment so I stood to take my leave, "You need to rest." I put simply, "do you have a place to stay tonight?" My tent wasn't much but at least it had privacy.

At that, Bellamy spoke up "She can bunk here tonight."

Something told me that Kat didn't relish in the idea of spending tonight in the same tent as her potential baby daddy now that everything was on the table.

Ever the optimist, I mused, 'Good thing it's not me.'

My suspicions were confirmed as I watched Kat bite her lip nervously and stand shakily, "Actually I was thinking of bunking with someone else tonight, Bellamy." She didn't wait around for him to argue as she brushed past me and through the entrance of the tent leaving the two of us to our own devices.

The inevitable stare down I had been putting off for Kat's sake snapped into place with her absence. I could feel myself boring holes into Bellamy's eyes as I struggled to get a solid read on the man standing before me. He looked haggard, but then so did the rest of us, that was the life here on the ground. Ever present weariness aside though the elder Blake was sporting an impressive poker face.

Eventually, that gave way to a cocked eyebrow and the slightest of amused looks, "Is there anything else, Princess?"

Incredulous that he could act with such nonchalance at the news that he might be a father, I opened my mouth to bark the first insult that came to mind, but quickly closed it and reassessed. Still playing the part of the physician I reasoned that vitriol wouldn't help at the moment. I tried again, tamer this time-

"I don't need to tell you that this will likely be the first in a long line of similar worries to heap themselves onto our already massive pile of worries."

"No."

"I don't need to tell you that we're going to have to triple our efforts at building this camp into a safe and sustainable society now?"

"No."

"I would hope this last one can go without saying, but I will not permit any dead beat father types within this camp, and that includes you."

For an instant, his mask slipped and I caught the barest hint of anger as it crossed his face as he responded with, "My kid, my responsibility."

"Good." Business out of the way, the next part was going to be a bit more difficult to get out and definitely not as openly received, considering Bellamy's and my checkered, short history, "How are you holding up?"

The anger dissipated, leaving a few stunned blinks and his mouth just barely gaped in surprise, which was quickly replaced by the trademark smirk again, "Why princess, I didn't know you cared that much."

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and shot back, "I'm your doctor, consider it an occupational hazard."

"There are plenty of other kids here that need your expertise more than me, Princess, save yourself the effort." There was that feigned nonchalance again.

"You say that, but you were the one who burst into my tent and woke me up in the middle of the night."

"That was for Kat, not for me."

"Kat would have come to me on her own eventually, Bellamy." I let that hang in the air for a moment for rebuttal, but nothing came of it.

There was nothing left for me to say, "Well, unless you also need me to tweeze a splinter from your hand, I'm heading back to my tent," and I made to leave.

"I'll walk you back."

I nodded and once again we ventured into the moonlit air of the camp together.

The walk back to my tent was much different from the walk from it. The fires were smoldering embers and any remaining stragglers at this point were passed out. More than that, I could almost taste the waves of exhaustion in the days to come with this most recent crisis brewing. They might not have been my prospective children on the horizon, but as the nearest thing that counted for a doctor down here on this mudball of misery, they would be just as much my responsibility.

But those would be problems for a future Clarke to grapple with. Tonights Clarke would return to her makeshift bed and attempt a few hours of shut-eye while she could.

We reached the tent and I turned to face Bellamy, "Of all the things to worry about down here, this is going to be one of the easier ones to manage." I said, hoping to reassure, not sure if I actually believed what I was saying.

Bellamy burst out laughing, an actual, genuine, hearty laugh. Something I'd never seen him do before."That shows just how much you know about child rearing, Princess," He said when he regained the ability to speak.

"How hard could it be? Don't they just sleep?"

"Yes and then they wake up and cry because they're hungry, need to be changed, tired or its none of the above and you just have to sit there for hours and take it while pulling your hair out."

"Sounds like you're having war flashbacks, Should I be concerned about PTSD?" I joked

"Absolutely. It's all coming back to me in waves." And then he paused as his eyes bulged, "This camp would a death trap for a two-year-old, we'll need to build a small pen area to corral our supply of children until they're old enough to not accidentally shiv themselves."

"If I may interject, as the 100's resident doctor I know for a fact that even at the wise old age of 17 they likely still will not have grown out of that."

"Well then at least I'll only have to be a dad for a few years…" Bellamy muttered.

"Bellamy!" I swatted his shoulder, finding myself somewhere between offended and amused.

He just laughed, "What?"

Shaking my head, I transitioned the topic to my other reassurance, "All joking aside, I do think that you will make a good dad."

He shrugged, looking toward the ground where he had kicked at some invisible rock, "Second times the charm." He raised his head to meet my eyes and for the first time. I could easily read his expression despite the dim lighting. His face told me he wasn't as confident in his own abilities as I was.

"Take a look around you, at what we've accomplished as a camp, Bellamy. That's not because 100 minors are good at organizing and collaborating with each other. They needed help. You did that. You motivate them, inspire them and for whatever reason, they listened to you."

"You're not very good at listening to me, Princess."

"There's gotta be at least one person willing to challenge you, otherwise your ego will get too big to fit behind the walls."

"Okay, but do you have to challenge me on everything?" He asked in mock exhaustion.

"Of course not, just when you're wrong."

He cast me a look of exasperation, smiled, and shook his head. Then softly, he said, "Whatever helps you sleep at night Princess."

"Who needs sleep?" I joked and stifled a timely yawn.

"You do it would seem."

I rubbed at the bags under my eyes, "You're probably right."

"Night, Princess." He said.

"Night Bellamy."

I turned towards my tent for a second time that night to retire while Bellamy continued on in a direction that was not the way we'd come, not to my surprise. I reckoned Bellamy Blake would have many more sleepless nights following this one, although now it would likely not be because of tent hoppers.


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke

Morning broke with blessed uneventfulness. The rest of the camp was still asleep so I was spared for a while from being inundated with health concerns for the time being. As I emerged to greet the still misty heavy morning, the events of the night before barged their way to the forefront of my mind and nagged at me as I completed my morning rituals.

Stripping unusable garments for bandages I wondered if there were any botanical solutions for nausea that would settle over Kate in the coming weeks. A question for Monty. But if he didn't have an idea then my options were zero. a small gaggle of puking women would be an inconvenience at worst, albeit manageable for the first few weeks of the pregnancy. So it wasn't too high on my list of concerns.

Soaking the strips in moonshine to sterilize them I wondered how many of the 100's female population hadn't had the IUD injection before they'd been confined to the skybox and how many of those girls might have fallen pregnant. The low estimate was 3 the high estimate was 8. Ideally, it would have been zero.

Checking the seaweed to ensure it hadn't begun to mold and rot, I finally came around to wonder about what the mortality rate of the mothers and their children in 9 months time would be. If the mothers died, or their children died would that be due to my own incompetence or just simply the cruelty of nature? That was a sobering consideration that managed to turn my already bitter morning sour. To add to that the seaweed had begun to mold over, rendering it useless.

When the others finally began trickle from their tents, I was in an absolutely foul mood, my own pre-guilt weighing heavily on me. I lined up with the rest to grab breakfast, grabbing at the assorted nuts and berries more aggressively than I meant. I pulled my hand back and examined them to find juices trickling slightly where the skins had burst against the combined pressure of the nuts and my closed fist. No one took any notice as I let loose a heavy sigh, unceremoniously shoved them into my mouth, and turned to go back to my work.

It was a small blessing sometimes, being regarded as a black sheep by the rest. No one bothered me about much unless it was medical related. But all the same, it was like pulling eyelashes trying to get anyone to bother with me. I could ask a large bulk of the 100 for a favor and they would ignore me, or worse, they would acknowledge me only to then disregard.

"Miller," I called as I approaching the boy at the gate, as he and 4 others readied themselves to go on a hunt.

"Yeah Clarke," He acknowledged only half paying attention as he continued checking his pack.

"I need you to take me with you today."

"Why? Looking to get out of the castle and take a leisure stroll around your kingdom this afternoon?" Miller asked.

"Our stash of seaweed started to rot and we need a fresh supply." I put simply, ignoring the jab.

"So..?"

"So, that seaweed is what I use to heal you the next time you or someone else has an accident that leaves you open to infection."

"Harsh Princess, ye of little faith."

"Gotta prepare for the eventuality that everything can and will go wrong Miller. Now is the interrogation over? Can we get a move on?"

"It's not that simple Clarke. I mean, we're going nowhere near the lake today, you would be taking us so far out of our way and we wouldn't be back till late if we doubled back."

"But-"

"Clarke," He stopped me, annoyed, "Take it up with Bellamy, I don't have time for this." Frustrated, I abruptly turned on my heal, intent on doing just that.

I found him in what I would loosely describe as the command tent, pouring over rough map sketches of the surrounding territory with Raven.

"—an early warning system just before the grounders meet our mines." Raven was saying. Bellamy nodded at me in acknowledgment of my presence.

"My only concern is that one of our own might set it off or blow themselves up instead. Then we have our own idiots missing limbs and shooting at our own idiots."

"I can't fix stupid, that's a you problem," Raven replied.

"So far my best solution is to limit the number of people we have leaving from camp. Our more experienced hunters and people who are more familiar with the locations of the mines only."

I interjected then, "That's what I'm here to discuss with you, actually."

He raised his eyebrows wearily at me but nodded his consent.

"We need more seaweed, I went to Miller asking him to take me along on today's hunt. He said to come to you-"

"We can plan a trip for more in a few days," He interrupted as if that closed the matter.

"That's not the point, we can't be holed up here behind the walls forever. At some point, we'll have to reconcile with the grounders."

"I don't see why we should reconcile with people who want to see us strung up from the trees, Princess." He folded his arms over his chest, the gaze he leveled at me jaded.

"Because you don't want me and anyone else to come to you about coordinating a trip every time we need to go beyond the walls for something."

"That's exactly what I want Princess, it makes my job easier if I know everything."

I tried a different approach, "What about when we need to go out in search of supplies? If only the five people you trust to handle outside are allowed out at a time to search we won't scavenge enough to make a dent for when winter comes."

"Those five will train five more and they'll train five more, and so on to a point where I'll trust everyone to be semi-competent beyond the walls." He was being dismissive about my concerns and it was gradually irritating me.

I felt that there was a case to be made about striking a treaty with the grounders, I was intent on making it. I decided to go with my nuclear option, "What about when the girls IUD's start to wear off and our population grows? We'd need to expand our own territory eventually or we'll get too crowded. Do you really want those kids around all while a threat exists?"

I watched his face give the slightest indication that I'd struck a nerve: eyes narrowed, jaw set, his mouth a line of malcontent.

"We'll deal with that when we get to it." He said with deliberate evenness.

"This isn't something we can just put off, Bellamy, the longer we twiddle our thumbs just content with existing as we are the more this stuff piles up."

"Forgive me if I'm reluctant to aggravate a situation that's already hostile, Princess. I don't have the luxury of fantasizing about our people hand holding with grounders that would see us impaled on spears."

"Maybe not, but I do have the luxury of stitching our people up after they've been impaled and the luxury of working miracles with depleted resources to keep people alive." I could have stopped there but I was worked up and so I finished with, "I have the luxury of holding people's hands as they die on my table."

The next moments were uncomfortably silent as those words hung like a bubble in the air.

It was Raven who eventually popped the bubble with a cough, "Well it's been a good time watching first-hand mom and dad argue but I gotta run, bullets to make and radios to wire and yeah." Swiftly she exited the tent leaving Bellamy and myself to the rest of our discussion.

Tensely he said, "I am trying to keep us alive down here Clarke."

"And you're doing a good job, the wall is built, everyone listens to you and we're not presently being attacked. But that's short term, what about the long term?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how to do that."

"What about Octavia? She can get in contact with Lin—"

"She's not leaving these walls."

I held up my hands in defeat, "Then we need to come up with a different plan Bellamy. I don't care how we do it, just that we try."

At this, he seemed to visibly relax. "No one ever told me leading would be so difficult."

"You didn't expect you'd be taking on all the responsibility of maintaining a sustainable society?" I queried in mock disbelief.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he clarified, "No one ever told me I'd have someone constantly at my side, second guessing me at every decision."

"Better get used to it."

"Although I should have known. Of course, the arc princess has a preferred standard of living and won't tolerate anything less."

My face fell into a grimace, "You're impossible." I replied annoyed

"No, that's you."

I sighed, and abruptly segued, "So when can I go with the group to collect more seaweed?"

"Hard to say. Since we divided the territory into sections rotate between those checking traps while we're out the time frame depends on how much we catch as well as how much ground is covered that day. Could be two, maybe three days."

"You can't make an exception for a medical run?"

"Afraid not, princess. We don't have any life-threatening open wounds at the moment and unless something dramatic happens you can wait two days to get your seaweed. I can't reconfigure the hunting party just to refill our supply.

I sighed in accepted defeat. Bellamy wasn't going to budge on this issue, no matter how hard I pushed it. "Fine."

"Is there anything else?"

"Nothing yet, I still have to talk to Monty though."

"You do that Princess, we'll talk about it when I get back from hunting."

I nodded. He brushed past me to leave the tent and I followed in his wake. From there we parted ways, him to the gate to hunt and me to find Monty to check the other important thing off my to-do list.

* * *

"Sup Clarke," Monty greeted brightly from behind his makeshift distillery as I climbed up the ladder. "Jasper, pass me the Philip, would you."

"Hey Monty. Jasper" I acknowledged each of them all the while reevaluating how I would formulate my question as subtly as possible.

While Jasper greeted me in return, then returned his attention to what had previously held them. Unsure how much I wanted to share and with how many, I decided on approaching Monty with discretion. I only hopped the way I'd formed my question would be enough that h would understand.

"Quick question for you, on the Ark did you ever learn about a plant that might detect human chorionic gonadotropin?"

He gave me a strange look, "Isn't that the -"

"Hormone secreted by certain ah.. growing cancer tumors." I interrupted quickly, giving him a look that implied he should keep it to himself, "I'm thinking about early warning signs for serious side effects of radiation, I want to know if we can synthesize anything that might let us know if people do start developing a growth on a cellular level."

"I see…" he said raising an eyebrow at me, glancing down at my stomach, then back up to my face, a question.

I shook my head at him, "Sound like anything in your botanical wheelhouse?

"Maybe, if we had any wheat or barley seeds and a few days to let them germinate."

I sighed, we were surrounded by miles of woodland on all sides. 97 years since the nuclear apocalypse devastated the world and I very much doubted there were many tended wheat fields anywhere that didn't also happen to coincide with grounder territory.

"Great…" I replied wearily, I was 0 for two this afternoon it would seem.

"Mind telling me who you think might have started developing a tumor?" Monty asked pointedly.

"I couldn't tell you yet, but the idea came to me suddenly late last night while I was asleep. I'd rather you not say anything about it for now tho. It doesn't need to be a big deal."

"My lips are sealed," Monty reassured.

"Mine too," chimed in Jasper, clueless.

I nodded at them and made to climb back down the ladder. I heard a whistle and looked back up to see Monty mouthing something — Spacewalker?

I gave him an exasperated look and mouthed — No! — back and continued my descent. I hadn't even reached the floor when I heard my name being called from outside the dropship.

'Alright, which of you is dying now.' I half-joked to myself.

"I'm here," I called as I moved towards the slit in the piece of the parachute we'd draped across the entrance. I suddenly found myself face to face with the other Blake sibling as we nearly bumped noses. She had a bright look in her eyes that I recognized as the one reserved exclusively for when she disobeyed her brother. "Octavia."

"Hey Clarke, do you have a moment?" She asked, gesturing to a part of her leg. I noticed that the fabric of her pants where she'd drawn my attention was colored darker than the surrounding material. The stain was an oval blemish, roughly five centimeters in diameter at its widest, the center of which was a freshly sliced and bleeding gash. I could tell her hands were wet with blood where she'd tried to stem the flow.

"Now how did that happen?" I queried with a quirked eyebrow, I was fairly certain that I already knew the answer to that.

"Not here," she said looking pointedly towards the hatch to the second floor of the dropship

"Follow me," I said, pulling her through the tarp. I kept us on the outskirts of the camp as we made our way towards my tent. I kept portable cash of medical supplies on hand for easy access in case someone came to me in the middle of the night. I held the flap open for her and followed after.

"Pants off, start talking," I said pulling out some moonshine, a bunch of sterilized shredded strips of cloth, and some thread and a needle from my stash.

"At least buy me dinner first," Octavia muttered while she unbuttoned her jeans.

"Sorry, my bedside manner's gotten a little rough after a year in solitary and then being on the ground surrounded by people who don't like me certainly hasn't helped." I kneeled next to Octavia who had settled on the ground. "Would you pretty please take your pants off and pretty please start talking." As an afterthought, I added, "This will sting, so brace yourself."

Octavia nodded, gripping at my tattered blanket in preparation, leaving a bloody handprint there. I poured the moonshine on her leg and Octavia hissed. "I was walking along the wall and my leg got caught on one of the pieces jutting out from it." She explained quickly as I inspected the gash for dirt.

The gash wasn't too deep, so it would only need a few stitches if any. Most of Octavia's bleeding was likely due to the fact that she'd been moving on her injury for a while.

"As your doctor, I'd recommend that when you leave my tent and people notice you have a slight limp you have an additional explanation for why you were walking along the wall in case someone asks." She narrowed her eyes at me, "Just a suggestion. It'll make lying to your brother easier when he gets back and asks you about why you're limping."

She considered this before nodding. "You're right."

"Of course I am, I'm your doctor."She smiled at this as I held up the needle, "This is also going to hurt."

"Do what you gotta do doc." She acquiesced, leaning back on her elbows casually as if I wasn't about to poke through her skin. As I was threading the needle, inspiration struck. There was a way for me to knock out both of the things on my to-do list in one go. All it required was some very diplomatic nudging of one Octavia Blake.

"Once I'm done sewing you back up, you're going to have to keep it as clean as you can. We don't have any seaweed to fight off infections at the moment."

"I thought we'd had some left over from when Jasper was impaled?" She was confused.

"I found it rotting this morning. So we are a seaweedless people at the moment." I began sewing her leg closed

She grabbed at my blanket again "Can't you just go out and get more?"

"I tried, but your brother has everyone on house arrest. He's not very keen on the idea of rushing to the lake for another few days."

"We'll just have to settle in and hope nothing bad happens until he's okay with it or unless I can convince him to let me go on a run with the hunting party tomorrow."

"Fat chance of that happening…" She muttered thoughtfully.

"Yeah." I tied off the last stitch.

Octavia inspected the patch job, looking impressed. "Not a bad stitch job doc, they teach you how to sew in med school?"

"When the ark ran out of zip sutures, staples, and glue, years ago it became a mandatory part of everyone's training to learn how to stitch with thread. You can reuse thread in some cases, and we still had plenty of that to go around. I'm going to wrap this and then you can put your pants back on."

"Good deal." I started tying off the cloth, pulling it tight enough that it stayed put, but not tight enough to cut off circulation to the rest of her leg. "Clarke?"

I looked at her, she was chewing her lip, a look of deep consideration on her face. "Yeah, Octavia?" I said as I made to put my things away.

Apparently, she'd made up her mind, "What if I could show you a way to slip through the wall?"

I smiled to myself "I'm listening."

"But you cannot tell my brother about it, okay?"

"Deal."


	3. Chapter 3

_Octavia_

I didn't mind venturing out into the woods for the second time that day. I certainly didn't mind helping Clarke disobey my brothers' wishes.

_'He deserves it, the tight ass,' _I thought to myself.

I did mind the newly stitched wound dull pain that shot up my leg with every step farther away from camp. It would likely leave a nasty scar, despite Clarkes best efforts. Luckily it wasn't too deep so my ability to roam the woods wouldn't be all that encumbered by my injury, I just had to keep the grimace off my face and maybe slow down a little.

If I were being truly honest with myself, I enjoyed the feeling of being unencumbered by barriers and archaic laws. The freedom I'd come to experience on the ground had been an addicting feeling. It was immediate, after stepping foot from the drop shift entry ramp, settling firmly into my gut, refusing to budge for anything and ready to throw me into the path of the next most exciting thing.

Best of all, it drove Bellamy _up a wall, _which was something he certainly, _desperately_ needed to experience as recompense for acting like a power tripping, pantie raiding, egomaniac on the ground.

It was a great irony that the brother who had seen me through years of hide and seek under the floorboards, in constant fear of legal repercussions, saw fit to try hiding me away from the rest of the world still, despite that secret having been blown wide open long ago.

Lincoln led Clarke and I through the woods in relative silence and for the second time that day I felt the familiar rush of excitement bubble as we passed each tree, trekking further away from camp and even deeper into the woods. Unadulterated freedom was something that would never get old for me. In an attempt to curb the desire to bolt ahead, I decided to break the comfortable silence that had settled amongst our party.

"So what are you going to tell my brother when he realizes you no longer need to make a seaweed run?" This was something that I was genuinely curious about.

"No clue, do you have any suggestions for letting him down easily?" She joked.

I thought on that for a moment, "I know of one way to get him to unbunch his briefs a bit, but I'm not sure it will work too well on him if you do it." I looked back towards the blond and quirked my eyebrow at her mischievously."

"I'm all ears, Octavia."

"The one thing my brother loathes as much as failing something he's taken personal responsibility for is disappointing someone he cares about."

"Go on."

"Growing up was a constant tug of war between keeping me safe from the Ark's policies and keeping me happy, our mother was incredibly stern about the things we had to do to keep me from being discovered, no wiggle room there. Bellamy, on the other hand, was a bit easier to sway. All I had to do was play up the adorable little sister act a bit, wide eyes, pout face, produce a tear and suddenly he was all set to play a game of laundry ball with me."

Clarke snort laughed, "Somehow I don't think playing the part of an adorable little sister with your brother will work for me, your brother barely tolerates me as is."

"Yeah, I don't get that," I said, there was no real reason for Bellamy to dislike Clarke in actuality that I could think of. In actuality, it perplexed me that he didn't try to be _more_ collaborative with her given her medical experience. Clarke was the person you wanted to have on your side more often than not if only to draw in more of a following. The camp needed Clarke and her skills more than the others and that was the simple truth of it.

"Really?" She asked.

"Well you guys bicker with each other incessantly, but it's like how I would with Bellamy. Just with higher stakes." I clarified.

"The difference is we're not related Octavia, he has no obligation to like me."

"I guess," I said considering that. There was no real reason _why_ people had to like each other down here unless they were related or friends. But then there was also no real reason for people to dislike each other down here either unless they'd personally offended anyone.

Sure, there was still residual tension between Clarke and me, Lincoln's torture had soured that relationship some, but that had been a tense day for a lot of people. Everyone had had their own motivations for doing what they did, Clarke had needed to save Finn, I had needed to save Lincoln. Those motives had made sense to me. But my brothers' actions had been less about helping anyone outright and more about his own paranoia of outsiders. I didn't understand it, and it seemed he didn't understand me. As a result, we found ourselves at an impasse.

"Plus," Clarke continued, breaking me from my thoughts, "It also doesn't help that we came from worlds apart on the ark. Most of the camp also barely tolerates me." This was something that I had noticed as well. Not a lot of people went out of their way to talk _to_ Clarke, but there was a number that went out of their way to talk _about_ her, not usually good things. She handled the disrespect with far more grace than I ever could and it was impressive.

The fact that she never reacted only gave rise to more harsh criticisms from her dissenters. She was caught in a vicious feedback loop for the others, and from what I gathered it seemed to stem from what had been her previous status on the Ark.

I wanted to know more but I got the feeling that Clarke didn't feel like being forthcoming at the moment. That and Lincoln had cast me a warning side glance. Living under a floor most of my life had defiantly been a detriment to my social skills.

Clarke flawlessly redirect the conversation, "So whats laundry ball?"

"If you stuff enough socks into one another eventually you get a decent sized sock ball, soft enough that it won't cause enough trouble but hard enough to play with, make enough of those for everyone playing and then you can play laundry ball. You try to hit the other players with your sock ball while they try to do the same to you, all while avoiding getting hit. It's pretty fun." I explained.

"Sounds like a good time."

"Oh definitely," I remarked. Laundry ball had been one of the highlights I remembered from my life on the ark when relegated to the four walls of our small quarters. It had been one of my favorite pastimes, that is until I realized my brother had been letting me win more times than not. That realization had soured my memories of the game some.

* * *

_I busied myself with the needle in front of me, desperately trying to thread the eye and finding very little success. I'd licked the end of the thread no less than 18 times thus far but there was no taming the loose strand of thread that stuck out a few millimeters from the end of the rest. It would have been SO much easier just to snip it off altogether and start from a fresh end, but mom hated when I did that. So I had been stuck for the last 15 minutes of my life desperately working to pass the thread through the eye to little avail._

_I had found that if you turned the thread in a leftward slope that the stray end would find the base of the eye and be forced upwards and through. It would work if only I could get my hands to stop their slight twitching at inopportune moments. _

Almost there! _I thought as I carefully positioned the materials a breath from my face, hardly daring to breathe. It was nearly there. Just a half a millimeter more and I was free-_

_"O, heads up!" _

_THWACK!_

_The needle and thread fell to the table as huffed in frustration. _

_"BELLAMY!" _

_"I gave warning." _

_My eyes narrowed at him, annoyed, "A half of a second is not a warning, you jerk." _

_All good natured laughter he brushed it off, "Still counts." _

_In a flash I grabbed the laundry ball he'd throw at me from where it had landed on the floor and lobbed it at him, aiming for his stupid face with all the force my small body could muster. He managed to catch it with ease before it could get close. I raised my eyebrows in shock at the response time of his reflexes. He only smiled, "Up for a game O? You look like you could use a break." _

_I huffed, annoyed and turned away from him, "No." _

_"Awe come on, you can thread needles later, I'll even help if you like, I have to be at cadet training in an hour and we could both use the fun." _

_"No Bell, I don't feel like playing," I said grabbing the thread and sticking the end in my mouth, preparing once again to thread it. _

_"Why not?" _

_I really didn't feel like playing, to be honest. I'd been in a mood for a while now, something akin to my usual cabin fever, only it had been growing much worse of late. It likely had something to do with mom and I not getting along. _

_Where once our small disagreements had ended with me inevitably accepting whatever she said with little pushback, recently I had grown bolder and more often than not our minor skirmishes seemed to evolve into the nastiest of fights. This had changed the dynamic of the household somewhat. I felt myself nestle into a deep state of bitter, our mother was in a constant state of absent and all the while Bellamy was just there, trying to mend our breaking family. _

_There was a question that hung palpably in the air around the three of us, growing less ignorable with every week that passed and with every inch I grew. No one wanted to broach the topic, because it would mean facing the consequences of a 14-year-old mistake. _

_What is the rest of Octavia's life going to look like?_

_It wasn't a complicated question to answer, it was just one that was best left unanswered because we all knew what HAD to happen and what would result as a consequence._

_Mom would have to continue life on half rations, lonely and prostituting herself until she passed away naturally or got floated. And Bellamy would likely live out the rest of his life fulfilling his obligation of big brother and protector. He'd never find anyone, settle down and become a father because I was a secret too important to share and too dangerous to impart on anyone else. _

_As for me? I would have to remain kept behind these four walls for the rest of my life. I would never know what it felt like to meet anyone for the first time, I would never see the rest of the ark. I would never fall in love. Never see space, or earth, never-_

_"O?" Bellamy's voice broke me from the hold of my thoughts, pulling me back to the present day. _

_"Bell," I responded, a new thought occurs to me. "Bell, how come you can never beat me in laundry ball?" I asked looking at him expectantly._

_"You're smaller than me so you can dodge better." He shrugged, his feigning nonchalance as he averted his gaze. _

_"Bell," I pushed, "what's the real reason I always beat you in laundry ball?" _

_He bit his bottom lip, his face now an expression I didn't quite recognize…_

* * *

Pity.

He'd never actually said it out loud, but that's what it was. It was a feeling that I recognized well, only years later after having managed to land myself in the Arks skybox alongside actual other living and breathing human beings that weren't my closest relations. I was the girl who was a criminal, just because I was born, met everywhere I went with looks of pity.

Apparently that had never been unique, however, I soon found that once I had left the small confines of our quarters on the Ark, I was met with not only pity but also looks of curiosity, as if they were waiting for a bomb to go off or watching an accident happen. They all knew I was guiltless, but that didn't stop them from watching and waiting to see if the girl who'd grown up under the floor exhibited any strange quirks as a result of her upbringing.

That riled me up more than anything. We'd both come to the same conclusion about me, that I would never be normal.

I waded through the shallow water, arms outstretched in search of the Red Seaweed that Clarke needed and treading carefully through the water. A warning from Lincoln, first-hand experience and a completely submerged head had taught me the hard way just how slippery the bottom was. Neither Lincoln nor Clarke had laughed at my misfortunes, both solemn and stony-faced as ever. All I got was a "you okay?" From Clarke and the slightest of eyebrow raises from Lincoln.

These were quite possibly the only two people on the face of this godforsaken planet right now that I could tolerate being near for a prolonged period of time without giving in to the urge to hit someone or disappear. And the fact that I had either of those options at my disposal was astounding to me, whose prospects had been fairly limited until recently.

Just as I was about to drag the last of the seaweed to the shore, a wind began to kick the water into whitecaps, whipping my wet hair flat across my forehead and sending goose-pimples up the length of my arm as a horn in the distance sounded its warning. The sound bounced off the trees and echoed in all directions.

"Octavia," Lincoln, his voice composed, but for the slight edge to it, "leave the Seaweed, let's get to cover."

I didn't need to be told twice as I saw in the distance a large flock of birds take flight, pursued by the familiar orange acid fog.


	4. Chapter 4

_Bellamy _

The gates closed behind me, instantly muting the busy sounds of the 100 camp. It was like stepping through a portal into a completely different universe. The wildlife surrounding the makeshift walls of our camp was a striking mix of emerald and viridian. These made for a sharp contrast from the mix of odds and ends that held the 100 camp together that were more often than not caked with upturned mud.

Beyond the walls, the persistent chatter from the rest of the 100 didn't follow. There was also a distinct absence of the steady rhythm of work noises. Most notably there was no one here to challenge me and my idea of what was best. No annoying blondes with enough bold persistence to force me to second guess myself. The danger of the grounder threat was a small price to pay for that relative slice of peace and tranquility.

"We're going to snag a boar today." Said Zoe to my left, always the first to break the serenity of the woods.

"You say that every day," Miller on my right.

"But _today's_ the day, I can feel it." She insisted.

Came Myles's doubtful voice from behind me, "Sure Zoe."

The hike through the woods passed in relative silence for the most part, save for the odd whistle or crash as someone tripped over a root. Not everyone had completely settled into their ground legs since we'd been on earth. The concept of watching where you stepped had been a foreign one to all of us, growing up in a technological bubble of cold, recursive walls and floors. The monotony of walking down hallways that were identical to all other hallways in structure rendered us ill-prepared. Life on the arc had always been a standard constructed for us three generations before birth. But down here every step was a gamble.

When we landed on the ground it was like learning how to walk for the first time, again. We had to learn how to navigate the uneven ground with our feet, remember to notice roots that could trip us, and using trees as leverage when moving through the woods had been its own experience.

Luckily I had established a daily routine of venturing out into the woods for hours on end. Walking the ground was quickly becoming less burdensome for me than most. Of course with my own improvement in that area that meant that I no longer had to focus as much on my footwork through the woods. Which meant that more often than not I found myself with entirely too much time to be introspective.

I found myself mired, not for the first time, in self-doubt. These days it felt less like I knew what the right course of action was and more like I was gambling with everyone's lives. Not that I could admit that out loud. Doubt, deference, and hesitation. Those were the enemies of leaders in precarious situations, which this most definitely was. If the 100 caught wind of even a hint of the mounting lack of confidence I had in my own self, someone would step in to take my place and it would cause a massive ripple effect. The camp would suffer and my ability to watch over Octavia effectively would be crippled.

Someone had once told me "fake it until you make it" which sounded like pretty solid advice. So I had settled myself to a life of feigned nonchalance, careless smirks, and arguing with the only person those hadn't managed to deter. Yet.

It was frustrating having a physical manifestation of my doubts pulling back a tent flap at every opportunity to challenge me. For whatever reason the more Clarke disagreed with me, the harder I felt myself pushing back. As if to prove to her that I _was _right, that I _did _know what I was doing.

But it was all a facade, I was making it up as I went with only one goal in mind —

_Protect Octavia. By any means necessary._

Nothing else mattered.

Or at least nothing else _had_ mattered before last night. That was all thrown up in the air with the news that I had received from Kat.

* * *

_I took a last turn of the camp to ensure everything and everyone were settled before retiring for the night. It had been a rather uneventful day, nothing too exciting, more work on the wall, hunting for food, people doing their jobs around the camp. Most of them pulling their share of the weight. Those who didn't were appropriately intimidated into compliance. _

_People were settling into a routine here according to their strengths and that was important. We'd need that, especially with the winter months just ahead. _

_I was about to venture back to my tent, nothing much left for me to do with people hunkering down for the night or passing out in front of the fire when suddenly a noise gave me pause. I could make out the unmistakable sound of someone gagging on their own stomach contents and a subsequent splash as it landed unceremoniously on the ground in the darkness. _

_I groaned internally, if someone in the camp was sick, either due to food poisoning or a virus, it would only be a matter of time before others started showing the same symptoms. That was a complication that would slow down productivity, it would set people on edge, decimate the morale of the camp. With winter on the horizon and the constant threat of grounder attack behind every tree trunk on the other side of those walls its safe to say my day had gotten a lot more difficult. It was not a good time for half of our camp to be rendered out of commission for a few days. Moreover, we only had one doctor (well medically experienced person) at camp, and I wasn't even sure she had the type of resources to deal with an outbreak of the stomach flu. _

_I approached the sounds and was met with the sight of a girl, hunched over and dry heaving "Hey," I said. _

_She looked up at me, discomfort on her face. It was a girl I was vaguely familiar with around camp, she'd been one of those that I'd fooled around a bit when we'd first arrived on the ground. It had been a wild first few days for everyone with the complete release of what had been 100 previously inhibited, rebellious teen criminals. _

_Anarchy was one way to put it, but it hadn't lasted long after we realized we weren't alone on the ground. In the wake of the power vacuum, I had managed to secure a foothold as defacto leader. It came with certain perks. I had first pick of resources or the best portions of food. But it also meant that I was the one who had to deal with all the hard stuff._

_"I'll be fine." She said, shrugging me off. Kate, I think her name was. _

_"What did you eat?" Her comfort was secondary and best left up to Clarke. I needed to know what in our food supply was the culprit and purge it. _

_"It's not food." She laughed between gasps for air. _

_"Then who got you sick?" It was just as important to get started on setting up a quarantine._

_"That's the golden question, isn't it Bellamy? Who got me sick?" She laughed again, this time working to stand up straighter, her hand on her belly, and throwing me an annoyed look. _

_That's when the 3rd possibility for nausea hit me in the stomach like a ton of bricks._

* * *

The memory of that night still had me reeling. I had spent hours after walking Clarke back to her tent trying to wrap my mind around everything running through it, but I was nowhere near mentally prepared for the onslaught of activity. On top of that, I had a camp to run and the never-ending problems that came with it.

Needless to say, I was tired and I was sidetracked. My stepping directly into a grounder trap, being knocked flat on my back and hauled up to hang several feet above my hunting team was something that could not have been avoided under the best of circumstances

It happened sometimes out in the forest, a person would get careless and forget to watch their step and end up with a close call, if they were lucky. We'd gotten better about not walking into traps and so it didn't happen as often anymore. But it was something that had certainly never happened to me.

I swore loudly while the rest of my team's laughter drifted to my ears. "While you ladies are busy giggling, would you mind finding the line and cutting me down? Thanks, I appreciate it."

"But Bellamy, we need a lookout ahead and you currently have the highest vantage," Miller called.

To my chagrin, the others chimed in, "Yeah Blake, Care to tell us what's ahead?" Zoe laughed.

"Two weeks on latrines if you don't cut me down in the next five seconds, Zoe," I said dangerously.

"Can you repeat that Bellamy? You're too high up, we can't understand you." Miller still laughing as he began to climb the tree to cut me down.

"Just cut me down already Miller. We have a boar to hunt." I responded hotly.

"Yes, Sire, whatever his majesty wishes." Miller mocked before he began hacking at the line that held me at odds with gravity. I fell to the ground with a heavy thud and a groan.

I lay there, stunned for a moment, intending to catch the wind that rushed from my lungs when I hit the ground and contemplated my life choices.

The boar we lugged back to camp was a hearty prize for the whole camp, large enough to be shared by all. Paired with foraged berries, roots and nuts, and washed down with Monty's burning moonshine, it was a far more decent meal than the protein pastes we'd resigned ourselves to on the ark.

That was one thing I didn't miss about the ark, the food. Down here there were more options, a variety of tastes to be enjoyed with an assortment of other flavors. I could have spent years discovering what the edibles of earth had to offer alone, apart from the rest of the terrain.

Luckily I didn't have to, another kid by the name of Gordon had offered to take up as a makeshift cook for the camp, implementing new methods to preserve and extend our food sources. There was talk of growing a garden within the walls of the camp in an effort to reduce our foraging ventures. He'd brought up the idea of drying meats to prolong their longevity. He'd even asked for the remains of the carcass of the boar in hopes he could turn it into stock for soup.

I granted Gordon that request, so long as he didn't outright get rid of the bones that were leftover. I had an inkling the bones themselves could be repurposed the same as the skins were being dried and fashioned into new clothes or blankets by others in the camp. Gordon's pile of bones was beginning to mount impressively in the pile where he'd been collecting them. They'd stay there until I decided what to do with them. So far the best uses I could come up with was fashioning them into weapons and bonemeal for fertilizer when we finally got around to planting that garden.

Honestly, the possibilities were endless, they just needed the right creative mind to discover them. Creativity for the sake of creativity, however, was luxury I didn't have time for. My mind was constantly occupied with war strategies, keeping people fed and wrangling the members of this camp into falling in line with my every decision.

It was there, as I sat by the fire, enjoying the evening and my food, that what I'd been attempting to ignore since this morning confronted me in the form of Kat.

"Hey Bell, do you know where Clarke went?"

My mood began to sober at that, "I haven't seen her since this morning at the gate, you check the dropship?"

She looked at me, annoyed, "Are you kidding? I've been in there all afternoon waiting on her along with a kid with a broken nose and a case of poison ivy."

Perplexed, I got up from my seat by the fire. "Take my spot, I'll ask around. See where she went."

Heavily, she sat down where I'd vacated, "I already asked around, the last person to talk to her was Monty in the dropship this morning. Right after you left."

At this, I felt my brows knitting together and my mouth set into a thin line, "I'll go look for her, stay here." I meant it more as a request, but it felt more like an order.

Wearily she looked at me with a pointed hand over her stomach, "Where am I going to go?"

I gave her an apologetic look and for the second time in two days made off in the direction of Clarke's tent, a short walk.

"Princess?" I called as I pulled back the flap of the tent. Unlike like the night before, the interior was cast in an easy glow from the fast approaching dusk so it was easy for me to discern there was no Clarke in sight. Just a living space, modestly filled with little more than some clothes, what looked like a personal med kit, a pillow made of moss, and a grey blanket sporting a small brown stain. In all honesty, I was surprised with Clarkes living space. The princess of the ark lives rather modestly down here.

Although I don't know what I expected given, the whole camp had been living on roots and berries and out of tents for weeks. My own tent wasn't _much_ more impressive than Clarkes, although I had a few more blankets and personal effects from the ladies who have occupied those blankets with me.

I made to leave the tent thinking, _'at least my blankets look cleaner than hers'._

That gave me pause and I stooped to examine her blanket more closely.

I had gotten a look at Clarke's tent during last nights visit. Although it had been dark and brief, I was certain the blanket had not had a stain on it then. As I looked the brown stain on the blanket I realized it had five digits attached to a palm, unmistakable in the glow of the flashlight.

I quickly backed out of the tent proceeded to cycle around the wall to each of the guards stationed every 20 paces. I interrogated each of them in turn, asking along the same line of questions.

"Have you seen Clarke?"

"When was the last time you saw Clarke?"

"Did Clarke come by this way earlier?"

"See anything strange to do with Clarke?"

A feeling of dread grew with each unanswered question. What had happened to our resident physician? Where had she gone? It was clear she was not in the camp, whether that had been willingly or unwillingly was still up in the air. Though I had my suspicions.

It wasn't until I got around to a boy near the rear of camp that I heard anything interesting. A string bean of a boy, no older than 14 holding a spear my taller than he was had the only lead of anyone "I… ah… I think… I… well. I might have seen her near the perimeter a few hours ago, with Octavia." He managed to stutter.

That information settled uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach, transforming the dread into anger as the realization dawned on me, "Dammit O…". I muttered under my breath as I made to turn on my heal to find my hunting team. Just then I heard a distant horn sound off in the distance, "Damn you, Clarke."


	5. Chapter 5

_Lincoln_

The cave we found ourselves huddled in for that night was cozy. There weren't any other words for it. It was spacious enough for three grown men to lie down in snuggly, but not for much else.

'Not that you mind,' I mused as I enjoyed the sleeping form of a woman on my arm. Octavia had taken to the situation with ease, settling into our forced setting with ease and hunkering down for the night happily enough. If I were a betting man I would have guessed that she was glad for an excuse not to go back to the sky people camp.

Clarke, on the other hand, was a harder person to pin down. She looked anxious enough to get back to her people, from the way she was fidgeting across the cave. She would rotate the watch around her wrist once, rub her leg, tap her fingers for a few minutes, look towards the cave mouth and then repeat this as if the ritual she was performing would speed up time. She was impatient, and I had a feeling this was a trait that carried into other aspects of her life as well. It was obvious that she wanted to get back to the sky people camp very badly. Although I couldn't for the life of me imagine why.

Nevertheless, I didn't pry. It was not my place to ask questions and she had no reason to be forthcoming with me. We came from two very different worlds after all. I was perfectly fine with spending our time together in silence.

She apparently had other plans, however.

"How long does the fog usually last." She asked.

"An hour or a day," I replied, quietly so as not to wake Octavia. This information didn't please Clarke, but that didn't seem to dissuade her from her inquiries.

"Where does it come from?" She queried. I shrugged, not entirely sure. There weren't a large number of my people who cared to look behind them while they were running away from the deadly fog. Our concerns for survival were bigger than storm chasing but it would seem that the sky people had an inclination towards nonsensical danger.

"Has there always been fog?" This question gave me pause. As far back as I could remember there had always been acid fog. If I thought hard enough though I could recall in my youth a village elder reminiscing to me on a time after the Great War, but prior to the emergence of the Reavers when the acid fog had not been an issue.

* * *

_"LINCOLN!" A cry shook me from my daydreams. I looked around for a sign of what was amiss. Before me, the village center was all but deserted as winds from the direction of the mountains kicked at the stray pieces of laundry left unattended as the bucket hanging from the well knocked against the beams that supported its roof. _

_I realized then that I had somehow missed the sound of the horn that warned of the impending murky death fog that plagued my clan. Panicked, I frantically searched for a suitable place to protect from the painful weather. Most of the dwellings were already shut tightly against the offending air, however, across the way I spotted Gaia at an open door, beckoning me to move towards her. _

_I dashed across the center and through the door just as the murky orange air began to creep through the village. Coughing I chocked out a meek, "Thank you." _

_"Lincoln," Indra tapped the back of my head with the flat of her blade, "where is your head at, boy?" _

_"Sorry Seda," I mumbled._

_"Pay attention and you might just survive this world better than most." She scolded. I cast my eyes down in shame at my foolishness. _

_"Spare the child your harsh realities Indra, the world is full enough of them as is and he is still learning." Perched at the wooden table was a silver-streaked woman I knew to be Indra's grandmother. Aditi Kom Trikru who's memory was far older than nearly all of the members of this village. She was the last of her generation and could name the last 18 commanders if asked, "The world is always providing us with new terrors to learn at our own pace, Lincoln is a smart boy, he will remember." _

_"It would be better if it were instinct rather than memory for him, komfoni." _

_Aditi ignored her granddaughter and carried on, "I remember when I was a girl the first time the smoke appeared. My brother and I were playing in the ravine when it came creeping from the mountains. A deer sprang from bushes and nearly knocked me over." Gaia came to sit by me, settling in for the impending story. "The smoke followed behind the deer. In that day, seeing a deer was a sign of luck. There was not much big game in the area so our people mainly sustained ourselves on smaller creatures of the wood. There were many nights when people went hungry, as there was not much to go around for everyone." _

_'That's still the case,' I thought to myself glumly. _

_"My brother thought the deer was a sign of good fortune. 'Aditi' he said to me, 'this season will be a good one for hunting.' My brother was a more spiritual man than I. He intended to join the flame keepers some day. He thought that it was a sign from the commanders of our fortune to come, or perhaps a sign of his purpose. Who can say? So he ran to embrace the smoke. I was not so certain, I saw the birds fly away from the smoke and the way it disturbed them from their perch so suddenly. I was right."_

_She took a moments pause to dab at her eyes with her sleeve before carrying on, "I can still hear his screams sometimes when I lay my head down to sleep. I tried to help him, truly I did," but the smoke burned my skin so much and I could do nothing but run away." she rubbed at her arms and I noticed the pink rawness of her forearms and hands "I took shelter beneath a waterfall for a long time after that, afraid to emerge. They did not find me for days after the smoke cleared. By then my brother had passed on, as had many others who'd been unfortunate to be caught in the smoke."_

* * *

"No, not always," I answered tersely, the memory of the story brought fresh to my mind. Why am I telling her this? I questioned. Clarke Kom Skaikru was my enemy. Any information given was an advantage my people no longer had. They were the invaders of my ancestral home.

Not that she or any of her people had a choice in the matter. A part of me reminded. Octavia had told me that they had all been sent down here as a means of an unwilling sacrifice.

"Has it killed many of your people?" She probed.

"People do not die in the fog," I started, "although we do kill them afterward as a mercy from their pain." She nodded as if she understood this to be true.

"Is there no other way? Is there nothing you can use to heal them?" She pressed.

I decided to give the unmitigated truth of the matter. As her people's healer — as Octavia's healer — the benefit for knowledge outweighs the need for secrecy, "Once the fog has blinded and burned the inside of their chest there is nothing to be done. They will not survive long even if their injuries do not eventually suffocate them. Their blistered skin will catch an infection and even if it doesn't the victims are never quite the same. It is a painful and terrible existence. One I would not wish upon my worst enemies. This is why we give them mercy."

She frowned at that and looked away, but the bleakness of the matter did not deter her from her interrogation. "Is there anything you can do for infections and diseases in normal cases."

"When fever strikes we make them comfortable and treat the wound, or keep them isolated if they fall ill. Whether or not they survive is up to their own strength after that."

"What about the children?"

I paused for a moment and cast her a wary glance, "What about them?"

"Do children survive?"

I paused for a moment, wondering why her line of questions had taken such a turn. I had seen the sky people with my own eyes and there was not a single person below the age of 12 in that camp. At 12, my people were well into their respective apprenticeships. They fought in battle and died in it as well. They hunted. The flame keepers even took them away for fighting in the conclave. I narrowed my eyes at Clarke and then cast a wary glance at her stomach, suddenly suspicious.

"Are you —"

"No." She said hurriedly.

I looked at Octavia and then back at Clarke and barely managed to croak, "Is she..?" I couldn't bring myself to ask it properly, certain my heart was ramming against my chest with the impending dread that settled itself into my gut.

Thankfully, She shook her head.

Relieved, I breathed deeply. Life on the ground was a difficult one on its own. However, the quality of life for a hostile foreigner within Trikru's borders, especially one that was with child, was expected to be far from pleasant.

"Someone else then?" I inquired.

"I…don't know yet." She admitted.

There was a long silence after that, during which the shadows grew long until there was no light at all. The silence lasted so long I thought that perhaps Clarke might have fallen asleep. Eventually, she broke it again.

"When we first arrived down here, everything was crazy. Everyone was a little bit nuts with the new freedoms and we were a bit drunk on the fact that we were breathing air for the first time in our lives. It didn't occur to me to even think about telling anyone to be careful. That they should make sure to take precautions. Not that there were any to be had…" She trailed off at that, the guilt in her words tangible.

"I'm the only thing we have that passes for a doctor down here. I have next to no supplies, no one will help me get any, all of my patients hate me and apparently I'm useless at preempting medical disasters…' she trailed off after that and allowed the silence to linger. There was not much I could say to help the situation. Bearing children was a dangerous thing. Many of our women did not survive childbirth, neither did many of the children themselves. Many of them didn't make it full or even half a term before their mother's body began rejecting them. The situation was a bleak one, but it was our reality.

I could not offer anything so big as comfort, there was none of that down here. The weight of that truth was a heavy one to bear.

The morning arrived with a blessed absence of fog at the cave mouth. We collected our things and a fresh stock of seaweed to replace that which we'd dropped in our hustle to make it out of the fog before the sun rose completely over the horizon. We were making good time getting back to the sky people's camp, the conversation with Clarke the night before still fresh in my mind. We'd nearly arrived when a new thought occurred to me.

"Clarke," I said before she could move into sight of the sky people camp.

Octavia turned to wait for her blonde companion, "Go on ahead Octavia, I'll catch up." And then she turned back to me.

I stooped to the forest floor and plucked the leaves of a dandelion from the earth. This was likely one of the last ones of the season and the odds of her finding any more were slim. This would have to do.

"Place the dandelion leaves on a surface away from direct sunlight. Pour some of the mothers' urine on the leaves so that they are completely covered. Keep them out of the sun. Wait ten minutes and if the leaves turn a reddish brown or form blisters that is a sign of pregnancy.

Clarke nodded, took the leaves from me and put them into her pack. "Thank you, Lincoln." She turned to follow after Octavia as I melted back into the forest.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: A brief warning for readers, this chapter does contain rumination of a characters past inclination towards suicide. Nothing graphic, just thought I'd mention it in case. Just be advised. Thank you.

Clarke

Entering through the camp's gate I held my head higher than I had leaving it the day prior. There was no use pretending that we hadn't been gone, it had been a few hours short of a day since we'd left, and as the only doctor no doubt my presence was to be noticed. However, had I come back from beyond having accomplished what I set out to do, fully content to celebrate any small victory with a glass of moonshine and calling it an early night later that evening.

I came upon the older Blake sibling blocking me from advancing forward and looking every bit displeased. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked the part of the intimidating leader with his machete at his hip and two of his inner circle at each side, also armed.

I set my pack on the ground containing the seaweed next to me and felt grateful as Octavia came up behind me to stand to my left, displaying a united front in the face of her brother. "Get out of my way Bellamy, I have work to do."

"Oh do you?" He countered, "What does this work involve, Princess?"

"I went to go get more seaweed because we needed it." I put simply.

This he spoke through gritted teeth, "Yesterday I told you it could wait."

"I decided it couldn't." Thinking back to the medical attention that Octavia's leg had needed yesterday I wouldn't even consider that a stretch, it was just the truth. It made sense to have anything with antibiotic properties on hand in case of emergency. I stood by that.

"So you think you can just disregard everything and take other people out into woods that are crawling with hostiles because it's an acceptable risk, to you?"

I evaded the question because in truth I did think it was an acceptable risk, but I couldn't tell that to Bellamy's face. Instead, I said, "We're both fine, Bellamy."

Unfortunately, he could read between the lines, "My sister is not an acceptable risk, Clarke." Internally I could tell he was seething, however, he put on a more controlled facade for the slowly growing crowd of spectators around.

"It's done now Bellamy, we have the damn seaweed, your sister is back safe and I can continue to do my job as effectively as this mudball will let me, everyone wins."

He looked me straight in the eyes, and very sternly said, "It doesn't happen again."

The sheer gall of that statement had me fuming. I'd had had to put up with that level of arrogant authority for the past several weeks, before that my life had been dictated by the four walls of my year long solitary, before that it had been the council and my parents. I was just sick of it.

The challenge left my mouth before I had a chance to even consider swallowing it, "Or what? You'll banish the only doctor you have down here?"

I immediately chided myself for that. Bellamy was the only thing we had that was close to a legitimate leader. The 100 rallied behind him and listen to his every word. If I started questioning his authority, the unanimity that had organized would waiver. Bellamy would be less influential and the precarious life we'd built here would being to fracture. We did not need that kind of instability, not now.

"I'll do one better. Miller! Roma! Move Clarke to the dropship upper levels. Make sure she stays put for a while. No one in or out unless I say so."

"Yes, boss," Miller responded and before I had a chance to react, I felt two hands wrap around my upper arms, jerking me towards the dropship.

From behind me, I heard Bellamy say to Octavia, "You're not going anywhere O. You and I still have to talk."

* * *

The last thing I needed was more time to myself with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs. And The last thing the 100 needed was for their doctor to be separated from them. Solitary confinement wasn't the ideal solution to any of our problems and someone had to tell Bellamy that.

However, I was locked up in here with no way of conveying that message to him and certainly, no one out there would jump at the chance to confront Bellamy, much less about my well being. I had no hope but to tolerate my mandated downtime and try not to drive myself insane in the process.

Solitary confinement was a horrible form of punishment, with the effects on prisoners ranging from simple anxiety to perceptual distortions and even psychosis. The last studies ever done on the solitary prisoners 100 years ago had cautioned that such a punishment leads to higher rates of self-harm and a massive increase in suicide attempts. The suicide was seen as a means of escaping the prisoners drawn out alone time.

My year in lockup had been a struggle for my sanity. My mother was a godsend with her every visit. Moreover, her smuggling art supplies to keep me occupied had been my saving grace during the darkest moments of my confinement. However, while it had kept all attempts of outright ending it at bay, it hadn't stopped me from considering it as a viable alternative given the circumstances.

My first experience being put in solitary on the Ark would better prepare me to handle this occurrence, hopefully without that line of thinking materializing as it had on the ark.

'The difference between then and now is dramatic, complete apples and oranges,' I assured myself.

There was plenty of reasoning to support that notion. For one, on the ark the likelihood that I would have been spared execution when I turned 18 were slim at best, My mother had had sway with Jaha and the council, however, I didn't think it large enough to make much of a difference given how dire the circumstances were.

For another, on the ark, I had been a more expendable member of the population. A medical trainee with powerful connections, sure. But a trainee all the same, who'd been deemed a traitor with a secret too big to let live. Down here, however, I had more to leverage. Who else was going to stitch up wounds and stave off infections? Who else could set a broken bone? It would likely be a few days of Bellamy stubbornly telling kids to just pinch their nostrils together if they got a bloody nose and pulling his hair out in frustration before he caved to the stupidity of his own idea.

Sooner than I expected I heard the familiar click of the lock and the hatch lid opened up. I braced myself for Bellamy's arrival and the fight that would ensue. Instead what appeared was the last person I wanted to break me from my forced solitude.

"Finn." I greeted flatly. I had been avoiding Finn, for the most part, the last several days. He was a can of worms I didn't want to revisit any time soon after our night together in the bunker. I had been working very hard to forget everything about that night. Not that it had been unpleasant or anything, he had been good and the night had felt special to me. For a while, I'd lived in a bubble of blissful. I'd even allowed myself to dare to imagine a future with Finn. But that bubble had been unceremoniously popped with the realization that he'd been holding out for another girl in the sky, Raven.

"Princess thought you could use some food." He said offering me a bundle of berries and nuts, a portion of dried meats and a cup of water.

I accepted the food and popped a few berries into my mouth as Finn settled himself comfortably on the lid of the hatch. There was nowhere for me to escape too, no pressing errand to do that took priority. At this moment it was just him, and I. And so, I mentally prepared myself for the awkward social visit that would ensue.

"How's solitary treating you?" He asked, attempting to make conversation.

"As well as can be expected."

Then nothing for a few moments. I took the opportunity to chew through the meat, sure to be slow. I'd skipped a meal yesterday and as I was already malnourish, I reckoned that inhaling my food wouldn't be a good idea.

"Have you been keeping yourself busy up here?" he finally asked as I finished off the meat and moved onto the nuts.

"Not much to do up here," I responded and then took a long drink from the cup.

"Well if you happen to get bored while locked in your tower, I thought I'd bring you something to do." He said and presented me with some yellowed paper and half a pencil.

"You've been to the bunker then?" I asked, a painful clenching in my stomach as I did.

"Yeah." He said simply as if it wasn't a big deal.

"Finn," I started, "You can't do stuff like this."

"Like what Clarke?" A from had begun to creese on his face.

I took a breath, an exercise in composure for both our sakes. It was time to nip this in the bud once and for all, "You know what Finn, you have Raven to think about, who loves you by the way. You can't maintain whatever it was we had before she came down and figured that out. It's not going to happen and it's not fair to anyone to pretend that it can."

"I… I know that Clarke. I just… I don't know what else I can do. I love Raven. But there's something about us that feels… right." He gave me a pained expression.

There was a long pause as that declaration hung in the air between both of us. It would have been so easy to give into what he was saying. Finn and I got along. We made sense. But hanging in the air between us was the ugly truth of the situation, that our relationship had been predicated on a secret. I couldn't let that go. He didn't seem ready to let Raven go. And so, we were doomed from the onset. It would have been tragic if I were a bleeding heart, but love triangles were hardly the worst thing to happen to me, within the last month alone for that matter.

All I said to him was, "I can't, Finn."

Finn sighed, defeated and began to make his dissent. Maybe this was the closure he needed to move on. I'd been depriving the both of us of this conversation since Raven came down and so neither of us has gotten a chance to speak our piece on the matter. Something decent might have actually come out of my time in solitary, a resolution to one of my many issues.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me, "Finn, wait!"

Immediately his head popped back up from beneath the hatch, "Yeah Princess?"

"I need you to pass a note onto Bellamy for me," I said as I grabbed one of the pieces of paper he'd brought me and began scribbling a quick message on the yellow stock. I folded the piece of paper and handed it off to Finn. "No one reads this except for Bellamy. Hand it directly to him."

"Ok." He said and disappeared beneath that hatch, leaving me in isolation once again.


End file.
